


The Prince in the Tower

by Butterynutjob



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Charles You Slut, Charles is loud during sex, Fairy Tale Elements, First Time, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-02-23 14:42:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2551343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterynutjob/pseuds/Butterynutjob
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Erik was expecting to rescue a princess, but he wasn't disappointed to find a prince waiting for him instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [The Prince in the Tower](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3113087) by [Butterynutjob](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterynutjob/pseuds/Butterynutjob), [zandrov](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zandrov/pseuds/zandrov)



> I keep writing fluff. Someone help me.

After what seemed like much less time than it should have taken, considering that the idiot had brought a grappling hook attached to a chain instead of a rope, the prince reached the window of the tower. 

Charles was half-reclined on the bed, looking studiously nonchalant as he flipped through the pages of a book he was pretending to read. He had been looking forward to _actually_ reading the book before the distraction of the loud clanking chain had waylaid his plans. He cast what he intended to be a dismissive glance at the prince climbing in the window before turning a page, but his eyes betrayed him and lingered a little longer than he planned when they saw how surprisingly attractive the man was. 

"Where is she?" The idiot demanded. 

Charles raised his eyebrows, still looking at his book. "I told you, idiot, nobody here needs rescuing."

He had, in fact, said exactly that about ten minutes previously, although he had been telepathically projecting the image of the princess saying it. 

"What have you done with her?" The handsome imbecile stepped forward, brandishing his sword in an aggressively masculine manner. Charles rolled his eyes. 

"I've given her some time off," Charles responded, finally pulling his eyes away from the book to make eye contact with the prince--the square-jawed, auburn-haired price with cheekbones that--

Charles mentally shook himself. Pretty packaging didn't make the man any more intelligent. "We have a little arrangement, you see," he said calmly. "I come Wednesdays and every other weekend so she can have some fun in the village, and I take her place so I can get some peace and quiet to read."

The prince didn't know what to make of this. "But I saw her. She talked to me, and told me--" he hesitated.

"She told you she didn't need rescuing, exactly. Except that was me saying it."

The prince's sword, which had dropped down while his mind worked, suddenly came up again. "Are you a witch?"

"Oh, for the love of--" Charles huffed. He felt indignant because the prince was closer to the truth than Charles wanted him to be. "No, I'm not a _witch._ This is me." Charles spread his arms as if to display his body and felt the prince's eyes on him, lingering a little more than expected. 

Well. That was interesting.

Charles put the book down and stood up slowly, keeping a wary eye on the sword as he did so. "I am a prince myself, from Westchester. I...do have certain abilities--" Charles' eyes got wide and he took a step back as the sword came up again, "--but I am not a witch," he finished hastily. "I am not motivated by evil, just the desire to escape some of the pressing obligations of royal life."

He saw a flash of not-quite-sympathy in the other man's eyes. The sword lowered a bit and Charles did his best to project _harmless, harmless, harmless_ so the bloody idiot would sheath the sword entirely. After a moment he did, and Charles let out a small sigh of relief.

The prince turned and walked to the window he'd just come in through and looked out. "Is she far from here?"

"Who?” 

“The princess." The prince was searching out the window, as if he might spot her from there.

"I told you, she doesn't want to be rescued," Charles said irritably. "That's how she and I met, you know. I came here to rescue her and found out that she likes it here fine, she just wanted to get out sometimes. So we struck a deal."

"You didn't claim her as your bride?"

Charles didn't want to go into explaining _that_ , so he turned the question around. "Is that what _you_ were hoping to do?"

The prince turned away from the window and regarded Charles silently for a moment. "I hadn't really thought that far ahead," he admitted. "I heard about the maiden trapped in a tower and I wanted to--"

"To be a hero? To rescue a poor damsel in distress? Did that make you feel like a big man?" Charles was sneering; he couldn't help it. He had talked to too many arrogant princes over the past several months, even only being in the tower part-time. No wonder princess Raven had wanted some time off. 

The prince eyed him with one eyebrow slightly raised. "To get away from the pressing obligations of royal life, actually," he said dryly, and Charles felt himself flushing to hear his own words thrown back at him. 

The prince looked at Charles's reddening cheeks and the barest smirk appeared on his face. He stepped forward and proffered his hand. "I'm Erik Lehnsherr, prince of Genosha." 

It was a half-formal introduction, and Charles matched it in kind. "Charles Xavier, prince of Westchester." Erik's handshake was firm, his hand dry and warm and lightly calloused. Charles felt his heart beat speed up at the touch,

"Well..." Erik trailed off as he looked around the room they were in. It was spacious and comfortable, with many windows to afford views in every direction, and a large fireplace for when it got cold. There was a huge bed on a stone pedestal, and also a few doors leading off other directions. "The trip from Genosha was long. Before I head back, Is there a place I can--" he hesitated. "Does this tower have--facilities?"

Charles ingrained good manners took over instantly. "Oh, of course. There is a restroom right through there, and towels in the cabinet if you'd like to shower or bathe."

Erik's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You have hot running water?"

Charles smiled. "I told you, this isn't a prison. If I'm to be honest, it's more like a resort."

Erik smiled back at him and made the slightest inclination of his head as thanks, then went through the door Charles indicated. 

**

Charles heard the water turn on and knew that Erik had taken advantage of his offer of a shower or bath. He pictured the prince naked, with hot water running down his body, or luxuriating in the ridiculously large bathtub, and his throat went dry. To combat the dry throat he helped himself to some of Raven's mead while he watched the sun get low in the sky and the air got cool enough that he closed the windows and contemplated building a fire. 

Just after the sun touched the horizon, Erik emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Charles forced his eyes to stay on the man's face as he said lightly, "Feel better now?"

"Much," Erik said, stretching his arms upward. The towel slipped an half-inch and Charles turned away and quickly took a sip of his mead. "Thank you," Erik continued. "Since I'm already imposing on your hospitality--" 

Charles interrupted before Erik could finish his thought. "Of course, you don't want to put those dirty clothes back on. I have some you can borrow, although they may not be the best fit. You are--built--differently than me." Charles swallowed and hoped his blush would be attributed to the mead, which reminded him..."Would you like some mead?" he blurted out. 

"Mead? I haven't had a real sip in ten years," Erik said, his lip curling up a bit at the corner. Charles grinned back and got him the clothes he asked for then hurriedly turned away when Erik blithely dropped the towel right in front of him and started putting on the new clothes right there in the middle of the room.

"We have a washing machine, too," Charles said, turned away and pouring a mead for Erik. He tried to get his pounding heart under control. He was under no delusions that his attraction to Erik was mutual.

"Excellent. If you also have a dryer, I should be able to leave in a couple hours."

Charles turned around so quickly he nearly dropped the glass. "But it's night now!"

Erik looked out of the closed window. "Just barely."

"We don't have a dryer, anyway," Charles lied, feeling terribly guilty. "I was--just surprised that you would want to ride your horse at night."

Erik shrugged. This drew Charles' attention to the fact that the shirt he was wearing was a little tight across his shoulders and the soft cotton breeches sat a little low on his waist, revealing a strip of flat abdomen and a few ginger wisp of hair. "I've ridden at night before. Besides, I don't want to impose more than I already have."

"Nonsense," said Charles firmly. "I'm glad of the company." He handed Erik the glass of mead and retracted his hand like it had been burned when their fingers touched one another. 

"I thought you came here to read?" Erik said coolly, sipping the mead. He was looking at Charles with an intensity that made the shorter man feel a little warm and uncomfortable.

"I, yes, but, that doesn't mean I don't..." Charles was getting flustered. The combination of Erik's aloof, distant demeanor and lack of modesty about his gorgeous body was arousing and confusing. And thanks to the mead, Charles' eyes kept drifting to the flesh exposed between the hem of the shirt Erik was wearing and the waistline of the trousers. 

"It's getting cold," Charles said abruptly, although he felt rather warm. The clothes Erik was wearing wouldn't keep him warm if it got much cooler and Charles really didn't want him putting on any more clothing. "I think I will build a fire."

Erik nodded, taking another sip of mead. Charles thought about reading his mind but wasn't sure if he wanted to know what he'd find there. Besides, he hadn't exactly told Erik he was a telepath, and it just seemed rude.

"This is a pretty nice set-up you have," Erik commented, looking around the room at the kitchenette, the huge four-poster bed on a stone pedestal that Charles has been reclining on when Erik first arrived. 

"Yes, we're lucky," Charles agreed, arranging the wood and kindling in the fireplace. When he had started the blaze and was satisfied with its progress, he stood up brushing his hands off and inhaled in surprise when he turned to discover that Erik was standing very close to him. 

"You never answered my question."

Charles swallowed and looked up at the man. The words were spoken in tone that could have been threatening or sensual. Charles tried to tamp down his reaction to either interpretation. "Which question was that?"

"When you first called to me, when I arrived. How did you look and sound like the princess?" Erik was standing very close to him, less than an arms-length away, studying Charles's face with expressionless pale blue-green eyes. 

"Oh, that. I don't think you asked that directly, did you?" Charles knew his voice was a little higher in pitch than it usually was and he tried to take a nonchalant step farther away from Erik, but the taller prince followed him. Like a predator. Charles shivered. He couldn't decide if he was intimidated or turned on. 

"I'm asking now." His tone had definitely slipped over the line from flirty to menacing. 

"I'm a telepath," Charles tried to say normally, but the second half came out as a whisper. He watch Erik with big eyes, wondering what he would do with this information.

Erik looked completely surprised, and--pleased? He smiled and took a few steps away from Charles over to the bar to pour himself some more mead. "I suppose you always win at chess, then," he said casually, gesturing to the chessboard nearby.

Charles felt he could finally breathe a little easier now that Erik had gotten out of his physical space, even if he felt a little pinch of disappointment about that. "No! I wouldn't use my telepathy for that. That would be cheating."

Erik seemed to honestly contemplate this as he sipped his mead. "What good is having telepathy, if you don't use it to cheat?"

"Well, you can help out your friends when they want to take a night off of 'damsel in distress' duty," Charles said defensively. He didn't know why he felt the need to defend why he didn't act unethically, but Erik was getting under his skin.

"Ah, yes, the princess." Erik considered. "Is she beautiful?"

Charles shrugged. "I guess. If you like that sort."

Now Erik definitely seemed amused. "What sort might that be?"

"Female," Charles said, locking eyes with the other man. 

There was a moment of tension in the air, and Erik’s face showed shock for a split second before it smoothed into it’s usual expressionlessness. Erik finished his glass of mead. "Not your type, then?"

Charles felt like he had just gambled and lost. "Not particularly. She's a good friend, though. Like a sister to me." What the hell. Charles grabbed the decanter of mead just as Erik was about to reach for it again and poured himself a healthy glass. He had given Erik a clear green light, and Erik hadn't taken the hint. Charles wasn't going to expend any more energy trying to be charming. Or sober. 

Still, the man was here, and Charles wasn't going to kick him out into the cold night just because he wasn't going to put out. "Do you want to play chess? I promise not to cheat by reading your mind."

Erik gave him an utterly inscrutable look and smiled. "Sure, let's play chess."

After several games of chess and the rest of the decanter of mead, both men were quite intoxicated. Charles discovered that Erik had a dry and wicked sense of humor, and Erik discovered that Charles had a hard time holding still when he was remotely excited - and since it had been a very long while since he'd convinced anyone to play chess with him, he was very excited. He bounced up and down on his chair and gesticulated wildy as he made impassioned points about chess strategy. His cheeks and the tips of his ears were flushing a dark pink, and he felt the need to bite his lips more than usual, so they were quite red. Erik, in contrast, sat still and only moved when it was his turn in the game. He watched Charles with a face that could have been either amused or annoyed.

They had each won one game and were evenly-matched on a third when, apropos of nothing, Charles exclaimed, "Why did you attach a _chain_ to your grappling hook? A rope would have been easier."

Erik grinned. "You're not the only one with special abilities, my friend." Erik's chain (minus the grappling hook, thankfully) started to circle Charles in mid-air before piling itself neatly next to his chair. 

Charles' eyes widened in delight and mischief. "Erik! Are you a _witch_?"

Erik grinned bigger. "Yes, Charles, I'm an old hag disguised as a strapping young prince." 

"Well, that would make for less awkward--" Charles stopped himself abruptly as his next two words were going to be 'sleeping arrangements.' And that made him realize..."It's quite late," he said abruptly. "We should probably..."

"Yes, we should be..." Erik trailed off and Charles noted with more than a tiny sense of victory that for once it wasn't just Charles blushing. The elephant in the room the whole evening had been that there was only one bed. The floor was uneven stone, cold and unforgiving, and sleeping on that would be worse than the ground outside. 

Charles tried to keep his voice steady. "There's only the one bed," he said. "But as you can see, it's quite large - there's more than enough space for both of us."

Erik looked like he might want to say something more, but he just nodded. Charles banked the fire and put out the candles and went to snuggle himself deep in the bed, leaving his clothes on. After a moment, he felt the bed depress with Erik's weight and saw his silhouette lay down, felt the covers be pulled. 

Charles could barely breathe, lying there on his back, thinking about the handsome man who was lying next to him in the dark, so close Charles could touch him if he wanted. His heart pounded as he thought about that and his cock began to stiffen. He wanted to touch himself desperately but he didn't dare with the other man so close.

He heard Erik moving and held his breath, but the man just appeared to be getting settled. Despite the sexual tension Charles felt, the the combination of the comfortable bed and all the mead he had drunk had him nodding off after only a few minutes. He was also completely asleep when he felt a touch on his hand.

Charles was instantly wide awake as his eyes snapped open in the dark room. Erik’s hand was touching his, under the covers. It was just one finger, pressed against one of his fingers, but it had to be deliberate. Hadn’t it? The other man was not moving away. After what felt like an eternity but was probably only two minutes or so during which time Erik’s hand did not move, Charles thought _what the hell_ and moved his hand on top of Erik’s. He heard the other man’s breathing change and his own heart rate quickened. He moved his hand so he was lightly stroking Erik’s hand and wrist. His skin felt hot to the touch.

“Charles,” said Erik suddenly into the dark room, his voice sounding far too normal. “What are you doing?”

Charles snatched his hand away as if had been burned. He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. His face burned. He was glad for the darkness because he did not want to look Erik in the eye at that moment. 

“Wait,” Erik said, his voice softer. “I--I didn’t mean it like that.” He turned to face Charles and reached out a hand under the covers that touched Charles’ arm. 

Charles, however, had felt rejected one too many times that evening, and without Erik’s bloody gorgeous face or body visible, he had the strength to resist. He turned away from Erik, moving his body away from the other man’s hand. “My mistake,” he mumbled into his pillow. “I was--having a dream, I thought you were someone else.” 

Erik stilled. Charles breathed shallowly, trying to listen to hear if the man was going to do anything else. About a minute later, his patience paid off.

“I don’t believe you.”

The words were whispered, almost silent, but Erik followed them up with pressing the front of his body against the back of Charles. Charles gasped as Erik thrust one arm almost belligerently under his head and wrapped the other around Charles’ waist. His body fit Charles' body perfectly, up to and including the way Erik’s erection fit snugly in the cleft of Charles’ ass. 

“I can feel your--” Charles choked out before he caught himself. His heart was pounding, and his own penis was starting to engorge. He started breathing harder, and whimpered when Erik delivered a soft kiss to the side of his neck. 

Erik’s left hand started stroking Charles’ chest and Charles couldn’t help shivering a bit at the sensation. Erik froze. “Am I--” he hesitated. “Do you want me to stop?”

Charles realized in a rush that Erik might think he was forcing himself on Charles. “No! I like--it feels good,” he finished lamely. 

Erik seemed to relax a bit, but not all the way. “Can I--will you kiss me?”

Charles would have to turn around to do that. He did so, awkwardly, and both men gasped as their clothed erections rubbed against one another. Charles re-settled on his left side and turned his face up to Erik’s for a kiss. 

It was too dark to tell where his lips were, so Charles' first attempt landed on Erik’s chin. Erik moved his face so their mouths slotted together and Charles felt a tentative tongue licking his lip. He opened his mouth a bit and licked into Erik’s mouth. Both men broke the kiss when Charles’ hips started moving of their own accord, creating friction on their clothed sex organs. 

“I’ve never--done this before,” Charles admitted breathily. “Sorry if I’m rubbish.”

Erik pulled Charles close, their legs entwined. “I haven’t either. I’m probably rubbish too.” He nuzzled at Charles’ neck and took a careful nip. 

Charles let out a little whimper. “Do that again,” he begged.

Erik obliged, foreshadowing the second nibble with hot breath. Charles worked his left arm under Erik and raked the fingers of both hand down the outside of Erik’s shirt, arching his back and making an embarassingly loud sound at the feel of Erik’s teeth and stubble on the delicate skin of his neck. 

“Make this go away,” Charles growled, tugging at Erik’s shirt. After claiming a deep and filthy kiss from Charles’ mouth, Erik hurriedly stripped off the too-small shirt he was wearing and Charles couldn’t get enough of touching his bare chest and firm abdomen. Charles dragged his thumbs across Erik’s nipples and was rewarded with a low groan from the man. 

“Now you,” Erik demanded, pulling Charles’ shirt up. It got stuck on Charles’ arms and he struggled a bit, desperate to get back to touching Erik, but Erik literally _growled_ and pressed their naked chests together, biting now at the juncture of Charles’ neck and shoulder. 

“Erik,” Charles whined, and with an amused puff of air out his nostrils, Erik relented and helped Charles get his shirt the rest of the way off. Thus freed, Charles triumphantly pushed Erik onto his back and climbed on top, rutting his clothed hips against Erik’s. Erik had his hands on Charles’ hips and he slipped his hands inside Charles’ pants so that only his thumbs were outside the waistband. Erik squeezed his hands, not quite wrapping his hands around Charles’ ass, but several of his long fingers were definitely touching buttock. He pushed Charles' pants down but without being unbuttoned first they were catching on his erection. 

Charles realized the problem and would have unbuttoned them, but it was a two-handed job and he was using his arms to hold himself above Erik. “You have to unbutton them,” he said to Erik, his voice sounding thick. 

Erik hummed as he stroked Charles’ sides and stomach and nipples, teasingly taking his time. Charles squirmed, trying to bring as much friction to his aching cock as possible by angling his pelvis against Erik’s. Slowly, finally, Erik unbuttoned Charles' pants and pushed them down, freeing Charles’ penis, which sprang into the cool air. 

Charles moaned loudly as Erik tentatively touched his penis and wrapped his hand around it. Erik's hand was dry, but he didn’t grip hard as he wasn’t stroking with purpose, more with curiosity and appreciation. “Can I--see yours?” Charles said timidly. Erik didn’t reply, too caught up in being fascinated by Charles’ penis, so Charles huffed and rolled off Erik, then hauled Erik on top of him. Erik laughed a little at Charles’ determination and the small whimpers and moans that kept escaping his mouth. 

"You're loud," Erik observed. Charles stopped in his frantic unbuttoning of Erik's pants, mortified. He didn't know whether to be angry or embarrassed or apologize. "That's a good thing," Erik continued. He leaned down to press a row of kisses to Charles' jaw. "I like it," he murmured. "A lot."

Charles freed Erik's cock from his pants finally and Charles gasped, subconsciously trying to be quieter, but not able to be completely silent when he realized the size of Erik's organ. "So big," he whispered roughly, wrapping his hand around it and then getting a better idea and wrapping a hand around both their cocks. Charles groaned, forgetting to try and be quiet, as he felt the hot flesh of Erik's erection against his own. He spit on his hand--on both hands--and wrapped them around both of their cocks together.

"Oh, fuck, Charles," Erik ground out, hissing through his teeth at the feeling. Charles watched Erik's face above him, barely visible in the low light, his mouth slightly open and his brow furrowed as Charles' hands stroked their cocks. 

"I'm going to--" Erik gasped, right before he came, the hot sticky mess spurting between them. He half-collapsed on Charles, falling slightly to the side and then brought his hand to Charles' cock. Charles moaned as Erik batted Charles' hand away and took over stroking his penis, even though Erik was still breathing hard from his own climax. 

Charles put his fist in his mouth to muffle any noises his body might want to make because, god, Erik's hand on his cock felt _so fucking good._ Erik pushed Charles’ fist away, his mouth touching the shell of Charles' ear as he whispered, "Don't stifle yourself. I want to hear you."

Charles made a truly indecent sound at that and his noises became progressively louder and higher in pitch as he got closer to orgasm. When he finally came, he made a long, keening cry and then turned to bury his face in Erik's shoulder in embarrassment. 

"That was fucking hot," Erik informed him, kissing him on his temple. Charles just burrowed his face farther into Erik's shoulder as the other man chuckled softly. 

**

It was far too early when someone bounced on the bed next to the two men snuggled up together so close that they looked like one lump from the outside of the bed. 

"Good morning Charles," Princess Raven sang in a sing-song voice as she plopped down on top the of covers next to the lump under the covers and wrapped an arm and a leg around it. "It's getting late, you lazy butt," she chided.

Erik, the unintended recipient of Raven's physical affection, flipped the top of the covers down and turned his head towards the annoying new presence. "Charles is busy, go away," he said. 

Raven shrieked and leapt off the bed as if she had been burned. "Who the fuck are you? What are you doing in my bed?"

"Uh--that would be--me?" Charles said, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. "Raven, this is Erik." He thought more introduction was called for and yet it also would have seemed superfluous, considering that Erik was still spooned behind him and showed no signs of wanting to disentangle himself. 

"Oh." Raven seem slightly mollified, but only for a moment. "Well, you could have put a sock on the knob or something! You didn’t even tell me you were seeing anyone,” she chided him, sounding a little bur hurt.

Charles and Erik exchanged a glance. “We, ah, just met yesterday,” Erik said, when it was clear from Charles’ flushed red face that he wasn’t going to say anything.

Raven gasped and looked back and forth at the two of them, then relaxed. “Charles, you slut,” she said approvingly. “Well, you two must be hungry. Shall I call Angel to make us some breakfast?”

“You have _servants_?” Erik said, expressing surprise even as he stretched. 

Charles smirked. “I told you it was more like a resort.”

**

An hour later, the three of them sat at the breakfast table, relaxing and enjoying tea after the delicious breakfast of eggs, bread and cheese that Angel had prepared for them. Charles found himself suddenly shy to talk to Erik. Although Erik had been perfectly courteous to him throughout their shared meal, he had been avoiding eye contact with Charles since they had awoken. Charles felt a tightness in his gut for what that signified. He realized he had no right to expect anything from the man, but he wanted to know him, learn him, touch him...and it hurt to think that Erik didn’t feel the same, even if Charles didn’t expect him to.

Sure enough, after a lull in the conversation whole they were all drinking tea, Erik said, “I should be going soon.”

Charles gut twisted in a knot but he smiled and tried not to look he was as devastated as he felt.

“Your clothes are dry,” Raven said, blithely unaware of the tension in the conversation. “I put them in the dryer since I saw the wash had finished.”

“I thought you didn’t have a dryer,” Erik said, turning to Charles, who was looking anywhere but at Erik. 

Raven finally picked up on the fact that Charles and Erik were both tense. “I’m going to...yeah,” she said and disappeared.

Charles abruptly stood up and started clearing the table. He had too much nervous energy all of a sudden to keep sitting. “That was fun,” he said lightly. “I suppose you have to try and rescue another princess, though. There’s a rumor the White Queen might be holding a young woman captive, you know.”

Erik didn’t respond, just sat silently studying Charles.

“Unless you have to go directly back home?” Charles said, realizing he was chattering nervously. “I know how royal life--Mmmpph!”

Charles’ voice was cut off by the hard press of Erik’s lips against his as the taller man stood and spun Charles around to kiss him. After a minute, Erik broke the kiss and looked into Charles eyes searchingly. Charles couldn’t help it--as he thought about Erik leaving, his eyes filled with tears. 

“When I first got here yesterday, you called me an idiot,” Erik murmured, reaching a finger to touch Charles’ lip, as if in disbelief about the color. “Now who’s being an idiot?”

“I don’t understand,” Charles said, although he realized claims of ignorance were not going to help him get rid of the label ‘idiot.’

The sides of Erik’s eyes crinkled as he smiled down at the shorter man. “Come with me,” he said. “We can ride double until we can buy you a horse of your own.”

“To Genosha?” Charles said.

“Eventually, sure. Right now I want...to travel, to explore. I would be honored if you would keep me company.”

Charles had never really thought about leaving or travelling. He thought of himself as a bookish, sedentary kind of person. Nevertheless, his heart swelled with joy that Erik had asked. 

“I think Raven might--” Charles protested weakly.

“Raven will be fine,” Raven said, practically skipping back into the room from where she had apparently been shamelessly eavesdropping in the corridor. “The servants are perfectly capable of taking care of the tower while I’m away, silly.”

“I’ve never really travelled,” Charles admitted shyly. “How--where will we stay?” 

Erik shrugged. “Inns, usually. Although I have camping equipment as well. Camping is nice because--” he smirked “--you can make as much noise as you want.” 

Charles turned positively vermillion at Erik’s gentle teasing, but fortunately Raven didn’t seem to notice anything untoward about the statement. 

“All right,” Charles said softly. He liked the idea more and more the more he thought about it. “Yes. Yes, I will go with you, Erik, but--no more rescuing princesses, okay?”

“Deal,” said Erik, and kissed him soundly.


	2. Artwork for The Prince in The Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wonderful [brodeurbunny30](http://archiveofourown.org/users/brodeurbunny30/pseuds/brodeurbunny30) commissioned this artwork from the talented [Zombietonbo](http://zombietonbo.tumblr.com/) for the Prince in the Tower!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Two Princes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4792130) by [Clocks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clocks/pseuds/Clocks)




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